


Janome

by Yemi Hikari (Yemi_Hikari)



Series: Human on the Team [1]
Category: G.I. Joe - All Media Types
Genre: Brothers, Family, Gen, Origin Story, Slice of Life, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:02:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25178101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yemi_Hikari/pseuds/Yemi%20Hikari
Summary: The waters took everything away. He knew no name, no family, until the head of the Arashikage clan gave him one. Yet there still existed a past life, the life the waters took away.
Relationships: Snake-Eyes & Storm Shadow (G.I. Joe)
Series: Human on the Team [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1799668
Collections: MinorFandomFest, Platonic Relationships, Siblings





	1. Survival Instinct

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer – I don't own G.I. Joe Sigma 6. This is an origin story for Snake Eyes that I'm going to use for other fics, including the crossover series I am already working on. I actually enjoy combining elements from all of the canons, but I'm specifically working with Sigma 6 as that's the only canon in which Scott Abernathy shows up in. Sigma 6's origin of Snake Eyes has him with the Arashikage clan at a much earlier age, much like the live action movies.

The rush of life memories flooded his brain, his mind attempting to grasp onto even the smallest thought, yet his own name evaded him. Instead, the sensation of water surrounding his small body, crushing down as a cacophony of rushing water filled his ears, the urge to survive taking precedence over everything else. His body continued down, as his eyes took in the rush of the watery abyss.

Then, his head slammed against a rock. His lungs already stung from lack of oxygen, but the sharp pain made his mouth open, instinctively taking a deep breath, forcing water to fill his lungs. His fingers somehow managed to scrape against the sharp rocks, and he pulled himself forward despite the biting sensation. Somehow, someway, he ended up pulling himself out of the water which was almost a watery grave.

His small frame trembled, then he coughed out the water in his lungs, gasping desperately for air. His fingers reached out, grasping the stones. Somehow, someway, he pushed himself up away from the ground. His eyes looked around, taking in the river bank and woods nearby. His mind remained foggy, and yet he tried to recollect something to help him in his current predicament.

" _I am?_ "

No name…

No name sprung to mind. The rush of life memories which flooded his brain a few moments before were now gone. His entire body ached, and something said he wanted another person to come and rescue him from the abyss of uncertainty and pain, yet nobody came. Letting out a gargled sound, he attempted to stand up onto his two feet. Instead, a pain in his knee made him drop quickly.

Taking a deep breath, his entire body shuddering, he stood up again, the urge to fight and live taking over. Instinct told him he needed to live, and he found himself staggering into the woods, looking for something, something he couldn't place as his head throbbed. His hands scrapped against the bark of the trees. The ground slipped under his feet. He kept walking, going uphill, then down, stumbling as he did so, but kept going.

He kept walking until the sun went down, and the night grew cold. His clothes had dried, yet had a nasty feeling to them as he tried recollecting something of his past, but also of what he needed to do, where he needed to go. He hunkered down, hearing some creature, but staying still instead of heading on. In the morning, he relieved himself and continued walking despite the fact his stomach growled painfully.

The sun rose and set one more time, before the next day he found himself finding some kind of building, a small village of sorts. His body was physically exhausted, yet something continued to drive him on. He saw someone putting out the trash, and found himself digging in to find something to eat. He made a mess, then found some place nearby to rest. He continued doing this over the next few days, only to hear someone yelling at him.

" _Scam! Kid, get lost!_ "

The kid in question flinched, not understanding the words which were foreign to him, but definitely understanding the tone. The people around him called him _sutoritouni_ , yet he didn't know what that, or what they said to him meant. He thought that the reason for the words avoiding his grasp came from the same reason he couldn't remember his name. He did know when he'd outlived his welcome in the village, and found himself catching a ride in one of the trucks into a bigger area, only to be chased off, and the same thing repeated.

Specifically, he avoided anyone getting close, including the men in the blue uniforms despite the fact they acted like they wanted to help. They stayed in small boxes, so he learned to avoid them, along with other people. Sometimes people would leave food, hoping to draw him in to capture him, but something made him keep going, running instinctively from the adults who were bigger than him, for some unknown reason. Perhaps it came from not understanding what they said.

When he started on the long journey, the weather was warm, and his clothes fit despite the fact they were torn slightly. The warm months started to cool, and his clothes became tight around certain places. The souls of his shoes began to wear out, and his hair grew long, at times getting in his face. No matter where he went, insults were thrown at him, and while he learned some of the words, most of the words he didn't know, escalating his distrust. Why he didn't understand, he didn't know.

He soon came to a village and needed to leave as white flakes began to fall from the sky. He didn't think much about this but soon found himself collapsing onto the ground, his eyes looking up at the sky. His breath came out in puffs, his fingers and toes cold as he looked up at the grey sky. Somehow, yet again, he struggled to his feet and continued to walk deeper into the wilderness, still searching for that thing.

His small arms wrapped around his small body, his feet continuing to step through the snow as he continued along the unseen path. Something in his brain said this could kill him, but something else said to keep going and to keep fighting. The breath came out of his mouth in puffs, and the white flakes glazed over his eyelashes. The wet snow left streaks on his skin, as it washed some of the grime from the last few months.

Eventually, though, his eyesight began to fail. His small body began to tilt, finally falling to the ground. His exhaustion got the better of him, and he curled up, wondering if he would die there. His vision began to blur as he looked out across the white field of view. He remained there for some time, trying to maintain his consciousness. Before he finally blacked out, he made out two figures coming towards him, one smaller than the other.


	2. Hard Master

The morning started off as normal with the older members of the clan taking to the dojo first, warming up before heading off for their individual training routines. The younger members filtered in, and the _hard_ master started training them, remaining strict, and allowing his booming voice to give the command, correcting each child's movements with careful precision. However, one student stood out. "Tomisaburo, excellent form."

After the morning session with the young students, he normally sent them off to the individual studies they were each assigned to undertake under a given master. A scuffle, however, managed to break out as youthful spirits ran high, one of the emotions being jealousy. The head of the clan walked in front of the three culprits which included Tomisaburo. He started with the other two.

"Fujiwara, why did you attack your fellow student?"

The youth remained silent, but the age difference between Tomisaburo and the boy remained all too apparent. He was older, and yet the younger ninja in training was already surpassing him in ability, but everyone talked about how the head's nephew would be selected to take over the headship already. The boy swallowed, knowing that the answer he had to give would either be a lie or met with disdain as that was not the way a ninja thought.

"Remember. Don't burn your hand with jealousy." The head watched the boy sigh. "And Koizumi… the following suit and starting something with a fellow student." He let out a tisk, admonishing the other older student. He turned to his nephew then. "And you? You know better. Fujiwara and Koizumi may have goaded you, but it was your choice to ignore and hold your temper, rather than making the initial attack."

Fujiwara attempted to chuckle, only to get a look from the family head.

"Cleaning duties for all of you young men, the entire estate."

"But it's cold out!" One of the older two protested.

"Then hopefully you three will learn your lesson, getting everyone in trouble like that. Soft master is in charge, but don't expect him to go soft on you." He thus left his brother – the unmarried monkish ninja in charge of the boys, knowing full well that his brother would handle the situation properly.

As such, he instead of focusing on training his nephew and a few of the other students he'd chosen to give special training to, he found himself focused on his youngest daughter's running ability. He attempted to instruct her in how not to make a mark in the snow, but her ten-year-old mind was occupied by life, and living life to the fullest enjoyment, particularly after the first snow fall of the year. That might explain the tensions among the young men o the clan today, as they were still just boys.

Some dark shape appeared in the distance against the white snow, something which hadn't been there the day before. As they drew closer, his daughter took off. "Yoshikuni, hold off."

His daughter didn't listen, and instead arrived at the figure before he did, then turned to him. "It's a baby."

The head of the Arashikage clan expected his daughter to have found the baby of a wild animal, but as he approached, _it_ became all too clear that the figure was no baby. " _How could anyone make that mistake?_ " A glimmer of thought crossed the man's mind. " _Yes. The girls do refer to their younger cousin as their baby despite the fact he's now six. This child can't be much older._ "

He watched his daughter reach down to touch the filthy figure, his mind wandering to how a child could end up in such a state. He swallowed, his eyes narrowing at the thought of his daughter finding another child out in the first snow fall, dead like this. The child's skin was streaked where the snow had washed away grime, but the hair was a filthy brown, indicating an impure heritage. Letting out a sigh, the family head knew the possible indications. His eyes closed.

"Poor little one. He's so cold." His daughter's next words brought the head's attention around. "He's barely breathing."

His eyes snapped open, and soon he found himself kneeling near the child, a hand reaching out to feel a slight pulse. Gently, he lifted the child up into his muscled arms. "Come. We need to get him warmed up as soon as possible. I need you to keep up, and try not to leave a trail of your footprints leading home so some stranger can find out home."

"He's a stranger though."

"Our code requires us to help travelers in need, but not to invite them unbidden into our homes without good reason." Looking down at the boy held in his arms, he watched as the child's head lilted to one side, his eyes cracked only slightly open, not enough to see said eyes. The child was light, almost of no consequence. They arrived some time later at the place the clan called home, and he carried the boy towards the hidden estate. A few eyes became drawn to their arrival, and the stranger in his arms, but he didn't think much of the matter.

The younger male members of the clan still worked on cleaning the place despite the cold weather, but the brother he left in charge looked up as he carried the small figure in his arms. One of the _soft_ master's head's darted up, a frown spreading across his face. He said nothing and instead carried the child to one of the side rooms. His brother sent for one of the ninja's who specialized in medicine, as he set the child down on the tatami mats in the room near the old fashioned fire place

Carefully, he began to remove the clothes, pealing back the layers. The boy was covered in filth and grime, but in some places, sores were beginning to develop. The clothes didn't look like they fit either, being to tight including the shoes. Eventually, his brother brought him a light yukata, and he attempted to warm the child up, hoping to get answers when the boy woke up.


End file.
